Fearless Writing with Bill Kenower

When we work with an editor, we will inevitably accept most of the changes they make to our story. It’s good preparation for sharing our work with readers, giving up our complete ownership as the reader makes the story their own. 

At some point, every artist must commit to their work before they have evidence of success. Let your love of the work be reason enough to make this commitment. 

Learning your craft is critical, but all the know-how in the world is useless without the right mindset. Unless we wait with an open heart and curious mind, we’ll never invite the ideas to which we will apply that craft. 

When you’re struggling, when you think you’re no good, when you feel like your story stinks – don’t try to fix anything. Do nothing until the feeling passes and you can make a better choice. 

The point of writing is never the outcome. An outcome is just an excuse to focus in a meaningful way, and when we do, we meet ourselves in a way we rarely do otherwise.

The only real certainty in writing and in life comes when we follow that guidance that tells us what story to write and how best to write it. If you don’t follow that, life will seem random, even though it isn’t.

Two helpful tips to get over our resistance to marketing: make it fun, and offer a conversation. It’s nearly impossible to do anything well that we don’t enjoy, and we don’t so much sell our books as invite readers to join a conversation.

When we write, we’re always seeking the effortless way forward. But we often meet resistance. The pain comes when we try to force our way through the resistance rather than find the better, more natural way. 

You’re an artist. You don’t have to stop being an artist just because you’re marketing your work. Keep being creative in everything you do. It’ll be more fun and more productive.

People deal with death and loss all the time. Yet writing requires us to tap into something eternal within ourselves, something undying that is always seeking expression.

It shouldn’t be hard to be yourself. What else could you possibly be? Yet writing, and the arts in general, have taught me like nothing else that being myself requires as much trust as anything I’ve ever done. 

Sometimes our stories don’t meet our readers expectations of what a story is supposed to be. That’s okay. Our job is always to meet our own expectation. It’s all we can do anyway. 

Whatever we think about other writers, we think about ourselves. Never call an author whose work you don’t enjoy “bad.” It’s only a matter of time before you look at your own stories and believe they stink and that you have no talent. 

Getting feedback from writing groups, beta readers, agents, and editors is just fine. But once the story or book is finished, it’s okay not to listen to criticism. It’s time to move on, and hopefully hear from the readers who liked what you’ve done.

Sometimes in life it can feel like our choices don’t matter. But writing teaches us that all our choices matter, the big ones and the small ones. Those decisions we make are the focus for our creative power. 

Writing is all about asking questions and waiting for answers. But we don’t want to ask the wrong questions, the ones to which we only want one answer, like: Am I any good?

Writing has taught me like nothing else that what matters most in life can’t be given to me or taken from me.

Stories can help tune us to the good part of life, what always exists beneath the surface. The good part is why life is worth living, though it’s easy to forget as we focus on the dull business of mere survival. It’s always worth it to remind yourself and your readers why we’re really here. 

Just as we can’t worry what people think of our stuff while we’re writing, so too the best way to be with others in social situations is to not try to please them. 

Very simple: show up, be curious, be interested, be open, and the details necessary to tell your story will come to you. Do your job and let the rest take care of itself. 

It’s not anyone else job to accept what is unique about you or your work. That’s your job. Once you have, however, others will have to agree with you. 

Our readers' lives and preferences influence how they receive our story. We can’t control that. So, we must give it away, metaphorically, and trust the right people will find it. 

If we’re not sincerely, authentically, personally interested in what we’re writing, we won’t succeed. As creative people, we must constantly ask ourselves, “What am I actually interested in? What do I care about?”  

The only way to learn is from experience, and everyone has to experience something to learn not to do it. As creative people, we will make mistakes, and plenty of them. The only way not to be afraid of those mistakes is to forgive them in yourself and everyone. 

The page is blank. You may be writing about the world you’ve experienced, but the meaning you find for your stories always starts in you – nowhere else.